Matters of the Heart
by Dagorloth
Summary: 3 Chapters and Epilogue. Moiraine had never seen that look in Lan's eyes or that tone in his voice. And it frightened her. How could something as innocent as falling in love with a village Wisdom threaten their quest?
1. Everything is Secondary

**MATTERS OF THE HEART  
By: **Rai  
**Rated: **PG

**Author's Note: **A recent re-reading of _Eye of the World _made me realize how deeply Robert Jordan embedded clues of Lan and Nynaeve's eventual relationship in the narrative. There are also equally numerous hints that Moiraine knew of these feelings as well early on. Knew, and seemingly didn't approve of. This is an expansion of Chapter 37 and 38 of _The Eye of the World_, but told from the perspective of Moiraine Damodred. And it deals with the personal sacrifice involved in their quest, and the troubles of love.  
**Spoilers: **You are expected to have read at least all of _The Eye of the World _to understand this story as Nynaeve and Lan's romantic tension is not formally revealed until late in the book.  
**Disclaimer: **I am not owner nor the creator nor the writer of _The Wheel of Time_ and its coinciding universe, may he rest in peace. I am not soliciting money from this venture as I am doing this for pure personal enjoyment. Any canonical and grammatical errors are my own.  
**Summary: **Moiraine had never seen that look in Lan's eyes or that tone in his voice. And it frightened her. How could something as innocent as falling in love with a Village Wisdom threaten their quest?

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**Chapter 1 – Everything is Secondary**

"Keep the horses quiet."

Moiraine Damodred didn't wait for the Wisdom to vent complaints over the soft, but curt order from her Warder. Oh, but she wanted to say something; Moiraine could practically feel the furious energy coming from Nynaeve al'Meara's dark eyes. But Moiraine would not give her the chance as she marched further into the thicket of trees on foot.

Truth be told, her patience had worn thin for the stubborn, peasant girl. Though, Moiraine would admit grudgingly to herself, it was not entirely the girl's fault that her presence has grown increasingly intolerable for her of late.

And so the Aes Sedai strode as quickly as she could, following the bond that led her to one of the Two Rivers boys, and away from Nynaeve whilst trying to maintain a measure of dignified composure by not allowing her riding dress to catch in the dead undergrowth, a cumbersome task had it not been for the staff she still held in her right hand.

The little knot of emotions at the back of her head, normally all steely-hard determination that masked old pains, quavered ever so slightly. It drew Moiraine's attention, and for a moment she wondered at the strange feeling she sensed from her Warder. Clarity hit her and she had to bite her tongue to keep from cursing. _Of course he could sense my irritation_, she thought sourly. _And of course he would know precisely what it is that has made me irritable. Bloody fool._

Though she was uncertain if she referred to Lan or to herself as the fool.

For nearly twenty years he had followed her and saved her more times than she cared to keep track. But though they have been through much in their travels, she had never held his heart. Not that Moiraine had ever desired it. She had known better, for she and Lan came together through a common struggle and a shared sense of duty for humanity rather than an emotional one.

Once Lan had described it as being "married to their quest." Moiraine thought the comparison was an appropriate one, for it was a cause that they had devoted everything they had in order to best ensure that it had a successful end. So much so, there was little else for them to give, romantically or otherwise.

Their quest had consumed them.

And yet, how long had he harboured feelings for the Wisdom?

Moiraine recalled the days and months since Nynaeve came upon them unannounced in Baerlon, brimming with arrogance and anger over Moiraine's supposed kidnapping of the three boys from the Two Rivers. Moiraine knew Lan had been initially impressed at the Wisdom's tracking abilities, but she had felt more respect for the Wisdom from him than passion. Granted, the idea of Lan harbouring a passionate thought for another had been about as foreign an idea to Moiraine as Trollocs south of Tar Valon. She could have easily mistaken his feelings of passion for respect.

She also rationalized that there had to be a very low probability that he could have fallen for her so early into meeting her. Certainly Lan was not capable of experiencing love at first sight.

Or was he?

"If you watch the wolf too hard, a mouse will bite you on the ankle," muttered Moiraine with a grimace. It was an old proverb based on the Game of Houses that her father once said to her, a warning that one must not become too absorbed by a greater danger before them, when a smaller could undo you just as easily. She had had to remind herself of this many times over the years. And yet, it seemed that so consuming was her cause that she was often guilty of allowing the small things to slip beneath her.

Lan said nothing as he walked silently behind her, though she could feel his own thoughts through their bond, so full of worry and doubt that it weighed upon her. But he would not speak openly of any of his personal feelings to her. Not unless she goads him into speaking of it.

And she refused to goad him.

As she was about the brush aside a low branch that barred her way with the staff she held aloft, Lan suddenly lunged forward. Before she could stop him, he had pulled her back the way they had come, towards a thick collection of branches that resembled a bush. Surprised, her frustration boiled over. She turned on him, ready to bark a sharp command for his unexplained actions when she heard the sound of two men noisily passing behind her. She spun and had to bite back a curse for the second time that night.

Right at the spot where the low branch jutted stood two Whitecloaks.

_To be consumed by the parts is to lose sight of the whole!_ she thought breathlessly to herself._ Light! _

Moiraine could not believe how her own foolish thoughts over insignificant details had almost led to what could have been utter disaster. Embarrassed, she could only run her hands over the front of her blue silk dress, as if to vainly smooth out the wrinkles of hard travel as she tried to settle her thoughts again and calm herself, but this time on the very purpose of their current journey.

With her heart racing, but also with as much outward calm that she could muster, Moiraine tilted her head to glance at Lan, and noticed that one of his hands held the hilt of the sword that hung at his hip, ready to spring into action if needed. Meeting his gaze, she shook her head, indicating for them to carefully make their way back and away from the patrolling Whitecloaks. There was no point in killing now, when they did not yet know how many Whitecloaks there were, and to what purpose. For all they knew, by killing the two of them, however silently, would arouse the suspicions of their comrades.

Lan nodded once as he began carefully working his way away from the Whitecloaks. She followed in his trail, holding her skirts so that she would not make any unnecessary noise. And it wasn't until the white of their uniforms was long lost in the darkness of the forest when Lan halted their retreat.

"Of all things I had expected to encounter so far from the Caemlyn Road, Children of the Light were certainly the last among them," he said to her, his voice still low as his eyes quietly scanned their surroundings. "If any of those boys are being held by the Children..." he let the thought fade.

"This is most unfortunate," said Moiraine levelly, though her eyes burned intently as she stared back in the direction of those Whitecloaks. "And it complicates matters."

There is little love between the Children of the Light and Aes Sedai. That the Children of the Light declared all Aes Sedai to be Darkfriends certainly left little room for friendship between them.

"Is he close?" asked Lan quietly.

"He is," she said, a frown creasing her face as she concentrated.

"Where?"

Moiraine looked back at him, her face a mask of calmness as she held up her arm to point him in the direction she sensed the boy to be. "No more than two hundred yards," she said flatly. "Don't do anything foolish."

Lan's quick nod was almost lost to the night as he vanished into the bush, though she could sense the disapproval over her final comment as he hurried in the direction she indicated. After all, was it not her own foolish and idle thoughts that had her nearly walk straight into the Whitecloak's arms? Frustration welled inside again her as she thought of her near fatal error. It made her shiver in the night, and though she did not feel the cold as others would, she could not help but wrap her cloak about her tightly as she tried to calm herself while listening for any foreign sounds approaching her.

She was determined that she would not allow herself to be caught off-guard like that a second time.

She would not let her mind wander again over the passions of her Warder.

Time passed unaccounted as she waited for Lan, reaching out to him as he scouted before them. But as always, she could do little to discern his individual thoughts. Only his steely-hard determination shone through, though she sensed grimness within it as well, a feeling that bode ill going forward. It weighed on her. The more serious Lan became when examining a situation, the more dangerous the mission.

She could feel Lan returning from whence he came and her eyes turned to look into his as he drew himself quietly from the darkness. "Well?" she asked calmly, though her heart was still pounding within her as soon as she beheld his grim, but unreadable expression.

He did not answer. Instead, he indicated for her to follow him. Wordlessly she allowed herself to silently pursue him. For she had long learnt that in these matters, Lan knew better than she, and that it was perhaps more prudent to acknowledge his orders rather than question it.

They wordlessly travelled north and east, careful not to leave any sign that would be able to betray their passing. Even the slightest ruffle of her skirts garnered a disapproving glance from Lan, though sensing her current state of mind, he held his tongue. After some time, she realized that they were ascending a small rise, though the trees and undergrowth did not ease their passing.

At last, they had reached Lan's desired spot near the top of the rise. His movements slowed suddenly and he looked at Moiraine, indicating that she must approach the top of it slowly and with care. Falling to a crouch, he sidled up close to Moiraine. "You should only be there for a few moments, enough for you to see what it is we must do." She gave him a curt nod before she slowly advanced to the crest of the hill, her staff held before her in both hands as she crept.

This time, she could not bite back the curse that hissed through her teeth, frustration boiling to the surface again as she took in the view beneath the rise. For before her were rows upon neat little rows of tents amid campfires. An army's camp if she ever saw one. And at the very center of it, where one expects the captain or commander of the unit rested, was where she sensed the boy.

She retreated from her vantage point back to where Lan stood, his face a mask of grimness. "There must be two hundred Whitecloaks in that camp, at least," he muttered darkly. "A full unit if I'm not correct. Apparently they are headed to Caemlyn with the intended purpose of looking upon the false Dragon Logain." He eyed Moiraine carefully. "I got close enough to the center of that camp to see that the wool-headed runt called Perrin is being held there. Him and the girl."

The curse that Moiraine uttered would have made Siuan Sanche proud, and even had Lan raising an eyebrow in her direction. "The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills," she said icily, her eyes blazing, her hand gripping her staff like a vice, "though I had hoped to find them without having to mount a rescue attempt. I expect that the Children are holding them captive."

She received a curt nod. "I can reach them without being seen," said Lan, "but once I release them, I cannot guarantee that we can make it out without drawing attention."

Moiraine gritted her teeth in annoyance. "And little good would come of any rescue attempt if it results in over two hundred Whitecloaks pursuing us to the gates of Caemlyn and beyond."

Lan could only nod again. "Chances are, we would be good as dead well before we make it to Caemlyn if we do," he said quietly. He turned his head towards the camp again, his eyes as dark and hard as black stone, his expression calm and forbidding. "But we also cannot leave them in the hands of the Children."

"What do you propose that we do then?" asked Moiraine.

Lan frowned, his face unreadable. "I can think of no other possible tactic but a routine shock and slip. I go in and attempt to sneak them out while you create a distraction."

"No." Lan stared at her, surprise present in his eyes at her quick rejection. "I have thought of it already. And there are too many, and too much is at stake to risk my distraction not being enough for you to sneak them out quietly, or risk a pursuit," explained Moiraine grimly to him. "We need to ensure that in the event that we do gain their unwanted attention that they cannot pursue us."

"What is it that you are proposing then?" questioned Lan, his expression appraising her expectantly.

"Two hundred men did not walk this far north of the Caemlyn Road," pondered Moiraine. "Where are their horse-lines, Lan?"

"I cannot cut both their horse-lines safely and recover the boy from the camp," said Lan severely. "Nor can you do the same while creating your distraction. Not without exposing yourself as Aes Sedai."

"I know," said Moiraine heavily, her eyes piercing into her Warder's with a knowing gaze.

Lan blinked as he suddenly realized what Moiraine was planning, before putting on a mask of stubborn denial. "No," he said flatly.

Moiraine gave him a stern glance. "Nynaeve has proven to be able to avoid notice when she is of a mind to," said Moiraine coolly. "And she is not a fool. Capable even, if stubborn as a mule." Moiraine's mouth tightened. "I do not like having to put our trust in someone as inexperienced as she either, but I see no other way."

"We'll find another way," seethed Lan darkly.

"The world's fate may rest on what happens tonight," snapped Moiraine, her frustration simmering to the surface once more. "And I will not risk being chased by Whitecloaks to the Spine of the World and beyond if only for the safety of this village Wisdom. She has proven to have some skill, ones that can be used here to benefit us all. Do you understand? We have no other choice."

The glare Lan gave her was cold and she noticed that he gripped on the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles were whitening. For a moment, Moiraine thought that he would defy her direct order, and she stiffened for the possibility. Instead, he swiftly turned his back to hers and began heading back towards the horses and Nynaeve. Although perhaps stalked is the more appropriate term for which he walked into the night.

Moiraine sighed as she relaxed, allowing herself to sit upon the winter undergrowth of the forest while waiting for Lan to return with the girl. It has been a long time since she had last lost control of her temper so, especially at Lan. But lately, her temper has been only precariously held, since the tension and stress following the misadventures in Shadar Logoth. And between Lan and now the situation with the Whitecloaks, even now, she had only an uneasy hold on her temper.

She closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the bond at the back of her mind, the seething anger at the decision made. But there was no other choice. And it frustrated her how complicated his feelings had made this decision. Before, he would have done any that she would have asked without question. Now, he had all but refused to be rational about this. But then again, his feelings for her are themselves irrational. He thought it so, and he knew that Moiraine knew this as well.

"Whatever the ends, all that matters is that we succeed," she whispered to herself. "Everything is secondary to our quest."

A wise person once told her that. And as she opened her eyes to stare into the dark of the forest at night, she wondered if those words rang as true for him now than when he had spoken them.

**TBC**


	2. There are Wolves about Tonight

**MATTERS OF THE HEART  
By: **Rai

_Disclaimers, spoilers and rating found within the first chapter_

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**Chapter 2 – There are Wolves about Tonight**

"How are you going to free him?" asked Nynaeve levelly to Lan, causing him to glance at her. Moiraine could only look upon him, however, for she could sense that beneath his mask of sternness there was a touch of affection within his eyes and in his heart as he looked upon Nynaeve ever briefly.

But it was as if he realized that she saw him, for the look and feeling vanished almost as soon as she had noticed it as he answered flatly, "I can bring him out, but he'll likely be in no shape for stealth. If we're seen, we may find two hundred Whitecloaks on our heels, and us riding double. Unless they are too busy to chase us."

There was a brief pause. Moiraine could feel him struggle within himself over the question he had to ask her, and for a moment she thought that he would not. And though she heard no sound from him, she thought him to have shifted uncomfortably on his feet for an instant. She closed her eyes as she began to prepare to ask the Wisdom herself when he finally said: "Are you willing to take a chance?"

They did not have to wait long for her reply. Moiraine barely had time to draw breath before Nynaeve answered, "To help an Emond's Fielder? Of course! What kind of chance?"

Moiraine relaxed only but a little at Nynaeve's answer. And while Moiraine was thankful for her assent, she was also fearful of the decision Nynaeve had made so readily and so quickly. For Nynaeve knew not the true dangers of this mission. How could she? She was little more than a child after all, borne of a backwater town at the edge of nowhere where trouble is seldom found.

But there was no turning back now and little choice otherwise. Failure was not an option, and for better or for worse, Nynaeve had talents that could be of use tonight.

Moiraine tilted her head and watched as Lan pointed into the darkness again, beyond the tents. "Their horse lines," he said to Nynaeve in a low, steady voice that masked the anxiety that Moiraine could feel building within him. "If the picket-ropes are cut, not all the way through but enough so they'll break when Moiraine creates a diversion, the Whitecloaks will be too busy chasing their own horses to come after us. There are two guards on that side of the camp beyond the picket-lines, but if you are half as good as I think you are, they'll never see you."

Moiraine could sense his discomfort over that final comment; that it became necessary to goad Nynaeve into a danger he did not wish for her to become wrapped up in. Moiraine could only responded with a firm, unwavering thought, reminding him as much as to herself that there is no other choice, that this must be done.

"I'll do it," said Nynaeve quickly, with such assurance that Moiraine wondered if the goading was even necessary, or if Nynaeve had even noticed the subtle attempt. She stiffened however upon sensing Lan's nerves tightening, and Moiraine realized that Lan had taken the Wisdom's quick answer as affirmation that Nynaeve knew little of what dangers she would face in doing what they wished for her to do.

In a way, Moiraine wondered much the same as he did on whether Nynaeve understood the jeopardy that they are putting her through on this night.

But Lan was ever outwardly stone-faced as he nodded again. "One other thing," he said to Nynaeve. "There are wolves about, tonight."

Moiraine blinked sharply, surprise catching her somewhat off guard. For Lan had neither indicated nor spoke of any sighting of wolves to her before now. But he paid no mind to her surprise or the sharp questions she mentally sent his way as he continued to say, "I saw two, and if I saw that many there are probably more."

He paused this time, and Moiraine realized that there was a tinge of wonder in his voice. "It was almost as if they wanted me to see them." He paused for but a brief moment again as if to allow himself the time to process the thought, though Moiraine knew the pause was for her benefit alone. "Anyway, they shouldn't bother you," he continued nonchalantly. "Wolves usually stay away from people."

"I wouldn't have known that," Nynaeve said sweetly. "I only grew up around shepards."

He grunted, a grunt that made Moiraine raise an eyebrow at him, for within that sound was a touch of annoyance borne on concern that was most uncharacteristic of Lan. Truly this woman must affect him deeper than even she could have anticipated, to have him expose his feelings as openly as he did then.

"We'll do it now, then," he said, and Moiraine was unsure if the sullen tone she sensed was heard or felt through her bond.

Moiraine looked upon the Wisdom now in the darkness and saw that her dark eyes were blazing at the challenge. And Moiraine could only frown at Nynaeve's eagerness, for it was clear in her eyes and in her zeal that she knew not the dangers before her, nor the peril that Lan and Moiraine had orchestrated her into.

Nynaeve reminded Moiraine something of herself when she left the Tower, once an eager creature going out into the world, seeking a purpose and an adventure that was hers alone to uncover and guard, such as it was for newly raised Aes Sedai. That eagerness was gone now; replaced by the pains of twenty years of hardship, failure and heartbreak. It was in those years she learned the grim reality that is her own mortality, and the harsh truth that even the Power would not protect her if she were to be too careless.

And she saw within Nynaeve that these were lessons she had yet to learn or comprehend.

It was for this reason that Moiraine caught Nynaeve's arm in a strong grip as the Wisdom was about to slip away into the dark and the Light knew what dangers that would befall them and her before the night's end.

Take care," said Moiraine softly. "Once you cut the ropes, return as quickly as you can. You are a part of the Pattern, too, and I would not risk you, any more than any of the others, if the whole world was not at risk in these days."

She meant it. Every word of it. But as she released the Wisdom's arm while ignoring the way Nynaeve rubbed it surreptitiously, Moiraine could sense the tight knot that is Lan's emotions in the back of her head. And she could not help but wonder if she had said what she had said for the Wisdom's own sake, or for the sake of her Warder.

_What does it matter whose sake it was spoken for?_ said Moiraine to herself silently. _The fate of the world may rest on this night, and we cannot allow her involvement to ruin our mission if she were to be careless due to her own inexperience._

However, perhaps it would have been better if Moiraine had said nothing at all. For it was not until after those words were spoken did Moiraine notice the light in Nynaeve's eyes, reminding the Aes Sedai of the Wisdom's stubbornness that belied her tirelessly inexorable pride; a pride that both strengthened but also blinded.

It was a pride that had both dogged and tried Moiraine's patience these last few days.

So Moiraine could only silently curse as she listened to Nynaeve ignore her warnings and wisdoms as she angrily hurried into the night, a cacophony of fallen branches cracking carelessly beneath her feet. Moiraine said nothing, of course. There was nothing more she could say. All she could do now was pray to the Light that the Wisdom would regain her wits swiftly before her own simple pride brought her to ruin this night.

Though if she were to fail, would it be the Wisdom's fault for her own obstinate persistence, or Moiraine's for allowing one so inexperienced and so unaware of her own failings as Nynaeve to become involved in such a dangerous venture?

_It must be done!_ Moiraine thought harshly to herself. _The fate of the world may rest on this night_.

She fell into a crouched position before embracing _saidar_, letting its sweetness to wash over her like a warm shower in late spring. In an instant it seemed as if the world brightened about her and deepened. Such was the power of the True Source that her perception sharpened so that even that darkness could not hide the bramble that barred her way. Her senses were heightened so that she could feel the grain of the wooden staff in her hand, made smooth by extended use.

For a moment she allowed herself to be swept up in the wondrous rush of life and awareness that the Power gave her, but was quick to stop herself from drawing more than she could hold. Handling the Power was always a constant battle with one's own willpower, for the more you drew on _saidar_, the more you wanted to draw. It is for this reason that self-discipline is among the first things that the White Tower taught to new initiates. Without it, you would eventually draw too much of the One Power within yourself and so perish.

Moiraine calmed her mind, easing her hold on the One Power so that she held only the merest trickle, though she regretted losing most of the sweet feeling of exhilaration it gave her. But she resisted its temptations. Instead, she mentally readied the weaves needed for what she planned as her distraction.

It should have been a familiar weave, one that had been used on countless previous occasions. But Moiraine found her concentration to be lacking. In the time that she waited, in which it seemed as if an eternity passed, she nearly lost her hold on the One Power several times, her flows knotting so that had she not been careful, the mistake could have caused catastrophic results. She chided herself then, like a Sister scolding a careless and inattentive novice. She had to remain calm.

She did not know what it was that had left her so strangely distracted, even confused. She then sensed Lan in the back of her mind, a burning intensity that was both dull and demanding. _Perhaps_, she thought at first, but immediately cast the notion aside. For no matter his feelings, no matter his affections for Nynaeve, he knew better than to let such emotions compromise or consume their mission.

Moiraine blinked then, for it was at that moment that she remembered the Wisdom and so realized that she had yet to return from her own dangerous foray.

Moiraine casually cast her eyes about her to see if the Wisdom had arrived without her having noticed, though it was a futile gesture. Few are capable of approaching unnoticed upon the Aes Sedai, especially one embracing the Source. Though Moiraine had to quickly remind herself that it was only a few weeks ago that Nynaeve had somehow managed to do so.

A sudden feeling of impatience began to fill her, and she realized that it came not from within herself, but from the normally steely, unmoveable knot at the back of her mind that made up her Warder's emotions. Lan, it seems, had reached the boy Perrin and the girl Egwene as well, and now only waited upon Moiraine's intended distraction to draw them away from the camp.

And still the Wisdom was nowhere to be seen.

A million possibilities filled her, each less favourable than the last. Moiraine's expression darkened as she cast another glance about herself once more, wondering, "Where is that Wisdom..."

She gasped, for her senses were suddenly overwhelmed by an incredible force. So much so that she had to brace herself upon the cold, hard forest floor upon which she crouched to keep from falling backwards into it. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was she felt.

"_How?" _she wondered incredulously. "_The One Power... and so much of it..."_

It was in the same moment that a single thought consumed her mind, and it was a thought that was both foreign and strange to Moiraine, but one also borne on desperation.

"_Do it now..."_

**TBC**

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**Author's Note: **Sorry about the delay with regards to the update of this story. With that said, the final chapter may be further delayed due to having fractured my left wrist recently. I apologize for the frustration that may be associated to having to wait. Believe me when I say that I did not plan it this way...


	3. A Tangled Weave

**MATTERS OF THE HEART  
By: **Rai

_Disclaimers, spoilers and rating found within the first chapter_

**Author's Note: **For all intents and purposes, yes I did incorporate at least a few details that were unveiled within _Towers of Midnight_. However, it is nothing truly earth-shattering if you ask me in addition to the fact that it is merely hinted at here, and not explicitly noted or revealed. So for those of you who have read it, this fic largely remains ToM-spoiler safe.

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**Chapter 3 – A Tangled Weave**

There was no hesitation.

Moiraine's staff was thrust upward, jabbing the air above her head as she released her weaves of Fire and Air. They combined into a deadly calamity of lightning and thunder, though the skies above were calm and still, so much so that the noise that roared into the night was ever more jarring to one's senses. Eyes closed, she focused most of the storm around where she estimated the horse-lines were positioned, summoning and endless torrent of jagged tridents into the ground. But though the ground trembled, Moiraine barely noticed, her focus solely on the torrent of the Power that she now drew and wove with a practiced grace.

But though the weaves came together for her with ease, her heart still trembled with what she had sensed only moments before. The words that were not hers still reverberated in her skull, making it difficult for her to maintain her hold on _saidar_ for it left her rattled and unnerved when she most needed calm.

The distant shouts of the Whitecloaks could be heard from her vantage point as chaos erupted from within their camp. She paid it little heed as she continued to bring down her endless stream of lightning down upon them, a grim expression on her face as she tried to keep her mind fixed on generating the largest distraction possible. Not a difficult task in of itself as long as she remained vigilant of her control over the One Power.

The boy Perrin and the girl were clear of the camp. She knew, for she could sense Lan draw beyond the edge of it, moving at a swift trot.

But she could no longer tell where Nynaeve had disappeared to. And Moiraine's heart trembled at the possibilities that could have befallen her. For if she had been captured and then this unnatural event Moiraine had concocted for them followed immediately, they would likely...

No! There was no use in thinking of such unknowns. Moiraine grimaced as she paused once more, hoping that Nynaeve would appear. But she did not, and the Aes Sedai sighed, resigning the Wisdom's safety to the Light. She was past the point of waiting. As it were, she had others now to worry about, one of whom is of the upmost concern as it stood at the moment. And though they were cleared of immediate danger now, she knew it was well past time that they made a speedy exit from the mess that she had fabricated for their captors in order to gain some distance between them.

She created a few final strikes of lightning to fall on the Whitecloak camp before allowing the weave to fade, though she did not release her hold upon the One Power. And in the echoes of her Power-wrought distraction reverberating into the night, she withdrew back to her steed as silently as she could. She moved swiftly, hoping beyond hope that perhaps Nynaeve had unwittingly withdrawn towards where they had tethered their horses following her own expedition. But alas, there was no one but the animals to greet her upon her arrival, and now Moiraine could feel herself becoming even more alarmed at the Wisdom's tardiness.

But before she could make proper consideration of the circumstances, time caught up to her. Lan and the others were approaching. She sighed as she turned to face them, attempting to keep her face as calm as needed in the face of this most unfortunate situation. But as soon as Lan stopped short of the clearing, Moiraine knew that he was well aware that something was not right.

And in that moment, Moiraine remembered a trick that she had been told about by one of the Green Ajah, for those who adopted more than one Warder. It was a trick in which one could mask certain emotions from their Warders, though it is not a practice that is either encouraged or approved of. Moiraine herself believed such practices would only sow distrust between what should be a deeply personal bond between a man and his Aes Sedai.

Though tonight had her wishing she had paid more attention when Alanna had shown her the weave.

Moiraine caught the look on Lan's face, noting the way he scanned the scene before him, realizing the Wisdom's absence, leaving her little choice but to explain what she knew.

"Nynaeve has not returned," said Moiraine softly, though her eyes were hard and stern as they stared warily at the Warder. "I fear that young woman has done something foolish."

It was then that an expression crossed Lan's face that she had never seen before. The slight widening of his eyes, the way his face paled ever so slightly at her grim announcement, the fact that the line of his mouth tightened into an angry line. With any other man, she would have considered the reaction a trifling matter.

With Lan, it was as good as a desperate cry of rage.

It shocked her, for she had never experienced such a profound sense of personal angst from Lan. But she hastily drew herself from her stunned state as she realized his thoughts, realized his foolishly laid intentions as he spun on his heels towards the direction of what was once the Whitecloak's picket line.

"No!" Her words lashed out like a whip, though faster still was the weave of Air she wove that swiftly halted her Warder midstride.

And suddenly another emotion radiated from Lan that while not unknown, had never previously been directed at her. And though Moiraine remained outwardly calm, she trembled at not only the feeling, but also the expression on his face as he looked upon her sideways, only his face and hands truly visible. For within that look she sensed such anger and rage at being held in place by Moiraine's unseen power against his will.

She softened her tone as she attempted to reason with him. "Some things are more important than others," she said firmly, her eyes never leaving his. "You know that." He remained silent, but she could sense his denial as well as his stubborn determination to save his beloved Wisdom of Emond's Field. And as she continued to look at him, she knew that upon dropping her weave, he would proceed with his foolish task regardless of reason.

He did not move, and nor did she.

Her voice hardened in frustration and anger at the situation that has come between her and her Warder. And in her own anger, she lashed out. "Remember your oaths, al'Lan Mandragoran, Lord of the Seven Towers! What of the oath of a Diademed Battle Lord of the Malkieri?"

His eyes widened at those words, and she knew that though she reached him, she also knew that she had hurt him as well in bringing up such personal matters. And yet, despite all this, she still sensed feelings of resistance within him. She could scarce hold back her own shock at knowing this, for when it comes to Lan, oaths were no small matter for him. And to be willing to break them for the sake of a village girl such as Nynaeve proved that his feelings for her were no small matter.

The man was in love.

Right then, there was a crash of breaking branches in the woods. And their mind became one once more. Moiraine immediately dropped the weaves that were holding Lan in place and in two smart strides, Lan was between her and the sounds, the pale moonlight rippling along his sword.

Two horses burst from the trees, one with a rider. And Moiraine blinked suddenly not at the unexpected scene but at the rider.

"Bela!" Egwene exclaimed just as Nynaeve cried, "I almost didn't find you again. Egwene! Thank the Light you're alive!"

The Wisdom slid off the mare, but as she started toward the Emond Fielders, a swift movement caught everyone, including Moiraine by surprise. Lan, who had only a moment before stood before Moiraine with his weapon raised had rushed towards Nynaeve and caught her arm. And Nynaeve stopped short, staring up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

Moiraine could sense that he wanted to say something, either in anger or relief. But prudence thankfully held enough so that Moiraine was able to cut in by saying calmly, "We must go, Lan." The ease of her voice did not reflect her true feelings however. Irritation flared from within Moiraine as she flashed Lan a warning look.

Lan regained himself swiftly, releasing Nynaeve without a word and feinting ignorance at how she rubbed her arm, laughing quietly as she continued towards Egwene to embrace her. Moiraine passed him a quick frown to which he graced without a response. But though outwardly he appeared normal, she could feel the chagrin in his head.

"Where are Rand and Mat?" asked Perrin suddenly, cutting into Moiraine's dismembered thoughts on her Warder.

Moiraine tried not to grimace at the question. "Elsewhere," she answered calmly. "The Light send they are well," she continued as she affected ignorance at the curse that Nynaeve muttered at her answer.

"We will none of us be well," Lan interceded, "if the Whitecloaks find us. Change your cloaks, and get mounted."

Moiraine gave Nynaeve a hard look that the Wisdom did not notice, or else affected not to as she chatted quietly with Egwene as they gained their saddles. The Aes Sedai wasn't certain of it, but she could have sworn that Nynaeve had been surrounded by the light of one who was embracing the Source when she crashed into the glade earlier. She also thought that the Power itself felt oddly familiar to that of the enormous amount she sensed only moments before, the one that had ordered her to "do it now."

Moiraine frowned, inwardly shaking her head. There was no doubt that the Wisdom has some ability to embrace the Source, but for her to be able to embrace that much of the One Power was not an idea Moiraine was willing to play with at the moment. For all she knew, it was merely her imagination, driven by the storm of emotions sensed and felt by the Warder that was now mounted and waiting by her side.

Such was the depth of his emotions, and the peril it could wrought upon them if all is not wary. Such is the way of love, especially one unsought for.

_The Wheel weaves as the wheel wills_, she thought sourly to herself. But nothing tangles a weave more than matters of the heart.

And oh, how tangled this weave has become.

**THE END**


	4. Epilogue

**MATTERS OF THE HEART  
By: **Rai

_Disclaimers, spoilers and rating found within the first chapter_

**Author's Note: **Bit of a bonus chapter for those of you who waited to read Chapter 3. Hope you enjoy this bit. To be honest, I had this written even before I finished Chapter 2, once upon a time.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Lan caught Moiraine as she collapsed, sweat beading on her forehead. She greedily gulped air as if she had been held underwater for time uncounted as she released Mat Cauthron's hand. She did not unclench her other hand however, the one that still gripped the _angreal_.

"I have done as much as I can," she whispered as Lan gently led her to a nearby chair. "But I cannot separate the bond with the dagger." The look in Lan's eyes darkened suddenly as he quickly turned his head back towards Mat, as if the boy would suddenly leap at them like a man possessed. She sighed. "He is safe, Lan. For now. But he has held that thing for too long, and to break that bond requires me to draw more of the Power than I can handle safely. It is too strong."

Lan nodded as he continued to eye Mat Cauthron suspiciously. The boy had thrashed and snarled through most of the ordeal, screaming oaths that should not have been familiar to a shepherd. Now he was motionless, his deep breathing much like one who is in a deep slumber.

"Should I send for the Wisdom?" he asked her absently.

Moiraine gave a start at the question, her eyes snapping to his. She could feel her expression quickly change to that of irritation, and she did nothing to mask it. "There is no need to get her involved," she snapped. "He will wake soon from his slumber. And I only need but a couple of moments to recover well enough to walk."

Lan blinked, and she could sense his surprise, both at her tone and at himself for even bringing up the Wisdom. She could feel him search for a reason as to why he would even mention her, but Moiraine had come to realize and understand that there was no logical justification for Nynaeve to have been in the forefront of his thoughts.

Moiraine sighed dismissively. "This is a foolish road that you have chosen to walk."

"You speak as if I do not already know this." She did not need the Warder's bond to feel the pain laced in his words.

"Yet you persist on walking it," she replied coolly. "I do not need remind you of what is at stake here without you becoming distracted by a pretty face."

"She is more than just a..." started Lan, but he stopped when he saw the expression on Moiraine's face, the way her eyebrows were raised ever so slightly. He sighed dejectedly. "I would stop walking it if I could. If only that I could save her and myself from this suffering."

The tenderness in Lan's answer surprised Moiraine, given the smouldering frustration that was radiating within him. It surprised her even more considering that in the twenty years that she had known Lan, she had never heard him speak so softly, or so sadly.

It was as if he had surrendered himself to his fate.

Moiraine slowly stared up at her Warder, and realized that she was no longer looking at al'Lan Mandragoran, the uncrowned King of Malkier and her Warder, a man who had long held little regard for his own life, valuing it only insomuch as she had need of his strength. He had once said that he had no heart, and believing him to speak in earnest, worried little about him having one to give.

Until now.

Here she saw a man who had inexplicably fallen in love with a woman. And as she looked into his gaze, she began to realize how deep his love had become, and with it, his suffering.

"Death is lighter than a feather," said Moiraine softly.

"Duty heavier than a mountain," finished Lan, his face taking on his familiar hardness. Mat had stirred in his slumbers. He was going to wake soon and then they would have to rejoin the others. "I will not ask for her, because I do not deserve her," said Lan so softly that Moiraine had to strain her ears to hear him. "She deserves better than any fate I could give her."

Moiraine gave a start at his words. Her eyes widened as she found herself recalling a memory of a time long past, a time when she looked at another's face and broke both their hearts saying much the same thing.

"_I'm sorry. But I cannot subject you to such a fate as I must live._"

"_You think it is of any concern of mine what life I live so long as..._"

"_I cannot ask it of you. You deserve better..._"

"Moiraine?" Lan looked to her quizzically, his words and his thoughts snapping her from her reverie.

She had to take a deep breath before she could regain her composure. "We will discuss this no more," said Moiraine smoothly as she stood from her seat, her face a mask of Aes Sedai calm. "You or I have done all we can on this matter." She could feel Lan's eyes upon hers, the questions in his head pounding into her consciousness. But she would be baited no more. Long ago, Aes Sedai have learned that when it came to the matters of the heart, it is a complicating thing. And in many cases, there is little that the Power, or any force known to mankind, is capable of doing against or for it. It can only be endured, however miserably.

"_I cannot stray from my quest, not even for you. For the fate of the world may depend on it..._"

"The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills," she said to Lan as Mat rolled himself out of bed, groaning audibly.

"What is and what will be, we must leave to the Light."


End file.
